I started my second novel at full pelt and full of enthusiasm.
A shiny new project to work on!
I felt more confident going into this novel than the first for three reasons:
- This one had been simmering away in the back of my head for a couple of years so the outline was clearer in my head.
- I knew I could write a novel.
- I had studied and put into practice the rules.
So this time around, it should have been easier. But it wasn’t. And I couldn’t understand why.
I pondered this question… ate a bar of chocolate…pondered a lil bit more….drank some wine…then took a nap, woke up and pondered further. I think the nap did it. Like a scatterbrained Sherlock Holmes I reached several conclusions:
Conclusion 1: I know how to write a novel
When I started writing the first draft of novel #1 I was in awe of the fact that I was actually writing the novel. After so many false starts over the years, I was finally doing it. I was dreamy-eyed. In love with my progress. Book #2 is so different and I wasn’t expecting that. The first draft process feels completely different. I think that the reason why is that this time around I know that I can write a novel and I realise that the first draft is an achievement, but I’m acutely aware of the fact that it is only one step in a process. I’m conscious this time around that there’s a long way to go yet. So I’m not feeling that sense of achievement that I did with the first. The excitement is still there but the road ahead is more daunting than before.
Lesson: The first draft of your second novel will feel different because you know that it’s only a small part of a long (but exciting) process.
Conclusion 2: I have greater expectations of my writing
I should be a much better writer now, shouldn’t I? I should know what I’m doing, right? The process should be easier and should yield better quality writing faster, correct? Correct, correct and correct.
But, why doesn’t it feel that way?
With draft #1 of my first novel I didn’t care about the fact that I didn’t know what the novel was ‘about’ yet. I didn’t really care about the fact that there were enormous plotholes or that the grammar was bad or that the dialogue didn’t flow immediately. I didn’t see any of this as I wrote because I was just being carried along by the momentum of my writing. I didn’t have time to stand still and take in the minutiae. And this is the best way to write first drafts, but it isn’t how I’ve been writing this one. Now that I’ve learned how to self-edit, I can see everything that’s wrong with my prose. I can see the problems as they emerge and it is making me stop and want to fix them now rather than later. This is sucking the momentum from my work and giving me time to dwell on the things that need fixing rather than being content in the knowledge that I’m getting shit done.
I had forgotten that the rule, so beautifully articulated by Ernest Hemingway:
‘The first draft of anything is shit’
STILL APPLIES TO ME! This rule applies to all writers and all first drafts. It does not discriminate.
Lesson: Your writing is better, it just doesn’t feel that way yet. The first draft of EVERYTHING is SUPPOSED to be shit so cut yourself some slack.
Conclusion 3: I started writing my second novel too close to the end of my last novel
I took a very short break between finishing my first novel, of which I am very proud, and launching into the utter shitshow that is the first draft of my second novel. This closeness in terms of proximity means that I’m subconsciously comparing the two in terms of quality. It makes me feel as though my writing has deteriorated. I need to constantly remind myself that I’m comparing my new novel to something that had undergone four drafts before I deemed it to be a finished product.
Lesson: Be aware of the fact that you may judge your first draft of your second novel against the final draft of your first. You aren’t comparing like with like.